I Am Lord Voldemort
by serpentginny
Summary: Venture into the all powerful lord's mind, seeing what ticks him off, and what his goal in life is. A DarkAngsty fic. Be warned.


**I Am Lord Voldemort**

_**serpentginny**_

We all began... as something else. I've done...unbelievable things...in the name of a faith that was never my own.(1) I had started as a young, aspiring, and to many of my fellow peers at Hogwarts, terrifying. The teachers knew I possessed personality to do great things, but never what I decided to go into. Never did they think that their perfect star pupil would become the great lord they saw controlling their every move today. But even in my school-days I knew what I would become, I was already on my way to making plans, asking that stupid fowl teacher Horace Slughorn about Horcruxes, and shedding my old appearance. It was my fate, my foreseen future to become this overlord, to become such a powerful being. I don't call myself human; I'm far from a pathetic human. I needed no reason for the human needs of love, pity, and empathy. I had wealthy, glory, faith and control.

I had faith in succeeding Grindlewald and bypassing him severely in the quest for everlasting immortality. But that...that amateur was never as far as I have come. I have completed something even he couldn't achieve in the likes of 40 some odd years. I have nearly completed my dreams; shed my old appearance and my filthy muggle father's name. Tom Marvolo Riddle. That name now lies upon the dusty shelves along with everything else I've had to suffer through before becoming to the point at which I am now. I had suffered through the trails of waiting, and now, wait is non-existent. It's only just a matter of time until I lift my head, and everyone in this Wizarding World, will bow to me. Out of fear. Fear of being killed under my hand, just the mere sight of me killing their loved ones. I have killed millions. I feel no pain. No one can stop me from completing what I have started. Not even the blessed hero Harry Potter.

I have killed more pests in this world then my servants can count, not that they have the fair amount of brains to count past twenty that is. Kill a man, and you are an assassin. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone, and you are a god.(2) And that's what I plan to do. Kill everyone within my whim and want that disobeys me, that betrays my faith, anyone who is a mudblood. I'm not afraid to dispose of people who stand in my way, I have no use nor time for that. I don't care about morality, to me, everything is right. There is no wrong to me, no black and white. Just one continuous shade of gray.Nothing is wrong other than someone who betrays me.

And people say, that morality is a private and costly luxury(3). The hell with it. I snort every time that saying bursts into my ears. Morality? Who needs it…?The difference between the almighty "good" and "evil" only decides the outlook of my future. My future of taking the rest of my soul back into my body and feeling like I rule everything. And because the future looks, as if to me, that I win this troublesome war, I can have everything I want.

I surely have everything I want already. The power, the destiny, the servants doing my begging. They serve me for a purpose, to do the little, dirty, worthless jobs, as I have overridden something of such low importance. I want my immortality. And I want it now! I'm not going to achieve my immortality by killing lowly muggles myself, no. Surely not. I have to protect myself, kill the big ones. Feed off of their own power, and others' fear. Those who dare stand up to me are covered in scum; they are just the more weak of the weaklings upon this soil. Don't get me wrong, I hate no one (aside from Harry Potter). I simply have a yearning to kill, a yearning to control. Control is something destined to belong to me, controlling everything those filthy mudbloods and muggles do. I can bribe them; I can make them feel utmost pain. They've got weaknesses I can pull as easily as a trigger, or strings on a puppet. The only thing they've got keeping themselves alive is the stupid nonsense of love that they ramble on about. Love. Who needs love to survive in a world like this? Apparently they do. I can take that all away though, kill the ones they cling to like flies to a garbage dump. Just like the Potters died begging at my hand.

Oh, the Potters. My horrific downfall. I don't talk about it much between my followers. They are too incompetent and stupid to handle such information with care. It was a night that I would never forget and the night I made my enemy. October 1981, I was at my best period. I had gained nearly _everyone's_ fear and had a strong, faithful group of followers that never thought of betraying me. I was on a roll when I stepped up to the new-found Potter household that night, feeling my way though the thick trees, branches crumbling beneath me. I wasted no time and blew the door open. The pure-blood traitor, James Potter, was already at the door, ushering that despicable mudblood up the stairs. Didn't they know that I didn't want them, but the boy?

"Move aside, Potter." I had sneered, but never would I have guessed that that incompetent blood traitor had the guts to stand up to me.

"Move aside? Never." I saw him raise his wand shakily and I laughed. I watched with a smirk and laugh as sweat beaded its way down Potter's face, trickling to his throat. "Get out of here," he said with what he thought was a warning tone. Didn't he know what I was now? The most powerful wizard that lived!

"Let me teach you a lesson, Potter!" I snarled. Now this was getting ridiculous, he wouldn't stand up to me no longer. He would get what he had coming. "_Avada Kedavra!_" The words were well spoken and defined and I smirked in happiness as I watched him fall lifelessly to the ground. Smiling, I knew just where the baby boy would be, covered in his mother's arms upstairs. Predictable family, eh? I stepped on his wand when crossing over him, the sound of it breaking reaching my ears with pleasure.

I knew exactly where to find them. The first door I flung open was the jackpot. The mudblood was placing the baby into a blanket, holding her wand tight. I smiled; soon, that wand would be snapped as well. "_Stand aside silly girl_," I snarled from behind her.

She whipped herself around, clutching my prize against her chest with one hand, the other clenching a drawn wand. "_No, please, not Harry, take me instead, please not Harry!"_

Now this was complete rubbish. "_Stand aside_!" I hissed, brandishing my wand fiercely. She was so damn stubborn, didn't she realize she had a chance to live!

"_No! Take me instead!_" she insisted fiercely. Dammit, I was not going to put up with this stupid mudblood. I wanted the child! There was no choice; she would have to go down as well, though she didn't have to.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" And before she even got the chance to put the baby boy down, she too fell down, dead, at my feet, begging for mercy, like I'd thought she would. The baby sat staring at me, giggling, and then at its mother and his eyes welled up. I grimaced._ Let's just get this over with then you can go off to your throne again, Great Lord..._staring down at the bright eyed boy, I raised my wand, not knowing it would be the final spell I'd cast for a long time. "_Avada..._" I paused, letting the tension release as I faced my enemy, a mere child. "_Kedavra._"

Something had happened that I had not expected at all. The house came crashing down as the green beam of light rebounded off the child, directed at me, the light hit its new target and I felt as though I was being ripped into shreds and a million pieces. I was a wisp of smoke, a soul left without a shell, and I fled the horrendous scene I had created before anyone could harness me. The baby boy had defeated me. That blasted baby defeated me just sitting there, looking at me with tears in his eyes at the loss of his mother. Loss? There was no loss.

He had thwarted me. And continued to thwart each and every plan I had created, the Sorcerer's Stone, my schooldays diary, even my revival. I had created my own enemy and now that I had figured out why I could not possess him, but I could touch him, I strived harder to gain control over the filthy half-blood teenager. It seemed as though my control was slowly slipping through my fingers like sand, or water. I had yet to defeat him, my mortal enemy. If I wished to rule the world, then he is my main focus. I need to rid the world of him, no more saviour. No more Harry Potter. It's the right thing to do overall.

Yet, I remember they way he stood up to me. He was gaining his own power, his own support, and the only thing I could do to prevail that, was to kill the ones he loved mercilessly. Sure, I'm up to a bit of murdering fun, but each kill I make, takes me back another step. He mourns, but then, as I've come to realize, he gains strength from the death. He gains meaning, love, and a new perspective on life. He had thwarted me again and again, time after time, and the track I was on was losing it's positive direction!

I don't believe this is the direction I was hoping to follow for my future. I was not to be defeated again by the same boy who nearly killed me as a toddler. It's ridiculous. My destiny was to rule, not to be ruled by someone else. I need to complete my destiny the way I see it, not the way the prophecy declared it. I need to win this war, I need fear, power, and everything else this damned world will offer. And if it doesn't offer anything more, I'll rip it from it instead. I don't give a damn if all my servants die before I kill Potter, they mean nothing. Potter means everything.

My morality still says the same, either way, Potter alive or not, I think I can still rule. Wait, I know. I know I can control him. If he won't die, then I'll convert him to my side. Better to rule with him on the evil side and not on the good. I have my back up. Not that I'll think I need it anyways because if I murder enough people, I can eventually win over Potter. He'll perhaps give up to me, convert himself over to evil, or willingly die at my hands. After all, I. Am. Lord. Voldemort.

**Authors' Notes:**

**1: Quote was taken from: _The Purifier, Chronicles of Riddick_**

**2: Quote was taken from: _Jean Rostand_**

**3: Quote was taken from: _Henry Brooks Adams_**

_**This was written for a challenge over at HPFF forums to use three Dark Quotes. I chose Lord Voldemort. Hopefully, you likey!**_


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